


Infected

by starkanium



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Apocalypse, Basically Just Everyone's Hurt, Blood, Gore, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony, Hurt Tony Stark, No Zombies Were Harmed In The Making Of This Fic, Pretty Graphic Stuff, Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:37:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1856691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkanium/pseuds/starkanium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It starts with the rumors. The internet is riddled with small blurbs here and there. No one believes any of the nonsense at first, of course. Anyone in their right mind shouldn’t believe it, because really, zombies?"</p>
<p>The World is left in shambles and this time, there's not much that the Avengers can do to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It starts with the rumors. The internet is riddled with small blurbs here and there. No one believes any of the nonsense at first, of course. Anyone in their right mind shouldn’t believe it, because really, zombies? It’s one of those things that’s easily laughed off at first, but the second-guessing comes naturally. The skeptics always deny even the simple possibility that zombies are real, but as time wears on, their eyes gleam with horror and disbelief. 

When the skeptics start to believe, the world seems to revolve around panic. The pictures don’t seem to help. 

The eyes of these things are gorged out in almost every photograph. Occasionally, there will be one with a single murky blue eye that seems to be infected with cataracts. Those ones are particularly ugly. The newer ones have swollen bellies and faces that burst after about a day. Then, the skin starts to turn flaky and float off their faces. The bones of the legs are always bent and demented, causing the things to walk around in a shuffle. 

The videos are what sends everyone completely overboard. Hordes of the Infected stroll casually down the street, their broken and filthy noses aimed to the sky. They somewhat resemble clueless poodle puppies wandering around, looking for their mothers. There’s a certain menacing air about them, though, which easily wipes away that lost puppy look. If they’re what people are claiming - come on, zombies? It’s impossible to think that it’s even a possibility - they’re sniffing around for blood and flesh and brains. 

The latest video is of one of them eating a live and healthy woman. Her screams and pleads for help fall on deaf ears for no one is willing to get close enough to assist. The small bit of faith left in the humanity is erased then; cowards are all that prowl the earth and who wants to remain there to die an excruciating death when they can end it themselves? If no one feels inclined to save that woman, just stand with the camera still rolling, who would protect them if something similar happened? Would others just watch in horror yet do nothing to prevent it? 

The questions enter everyone’s head at least once and the answer is always the same. No one will come to their aid, they’ll be left on their own to fend for themselves. Is it possible to remain on earth if one’s destiny is doomed to death by humanized creature? Of course not, it must end before that can happen.

When the first one had been found in the United States, the citizens of New York started to end it. Bodies were flung from roofs at an alarmingly - and almost comically, if it weren’t for the situation - fast pace. Like something from a movie; a repulsive and deranged movie. Soon enough, it looks as though there’s not a person living. Abandoned cities stand tall and silent, never to be touched again. 

Once the hope is lost, so is the human race.


	2. The Raid

“I vow to never watch another one of those damned zombie movies,” Tony promises as he shoves a ridiculously long nail into the empty socket of a zombie’s eye. He’ll never stop cringing at the squelching sound it makes then.

“I’m with you on that one,” Clint agrees easily. His face then morphs into one of hard concentration. “Actually, if I was able to ever watch a movie again, I wouldn’t care what kind it was. Besides, the zombie movies are probably comical after what we’ve been doing.”

Tony doesn’t disagree. He misses the electricity and the tech more than anyone else; he’d kill to get it all back. 

The earth seems to be engulfed in flames and it’s no less than a miracle that they’re all still alive and - for the most part - well. Buildings seem to have set themselves on fire, trying to melt away from the destruction that surrounds them. Thick, acrid smoke fills the yellowing sky rapidly and ash flurries from the sky to coat the ground in a gray slush.

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asks them when they finish off the rest of the horde. 

They all reply with a chorus of simple and weary ‘yes’s. 

They haven’t seen people in months. Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken to the sky in the Helicarrier back in June, about a month after The Overrun had began. He promised to be back within a few weeks. They still haven’t heard any news from him.

“We need to find our way back soon,” Natasha says nonchalantly. It’s almost as if she hasn’t seen the entire world in ruins. “The others will be getting worried by now.”

They trudge through the thick ash carefully. It’s too often that the Infected rise up from the depths of the powdery stuff, moaning and groaning and begging for a taste of flesh. They’ve learned to watch where they step.

“I think that we should check the CVS today. We’re running low on food and we won’t all last much longer without it. It’s worth the chance,” Steve informs the team.

They mutually agreed when The Overrun started that they wouldn’t raid the stores until they needed to. There’re so many potential dangers lurking behind the walls that they need to steer clear from them for as long as possible. It looks like that time is up, though. 

“I’ll go,” Tony offers because he’s been dying to see something that resembles life before The Overrun. Besides, if he dies in the place of one of those three, they’ll be able to take care of Pepper. Tony is probably one of the less useful people in The Overrun, and he’s decided to stop caring all that much because it takes more energy from him than he has to spare these days.

Steve, Natasha, and Clint look at him skeptically. It’s as if they know that they know that Tony is clearly the worst possible choice. Up against two assassins and a super soldier, Tony looks like an incapable idiot. 

“I’ll tell you if it’s clear.”

Before they reply, Tony smiles and waves before heading toward the CVS pharmacy. There are sounds of disagreement from the three but no one moves to stop him. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed.

Tony steps carefully over the windowsill of the CVS. His feet crunch obtrusively over the broken glass of the window that he enters through. He paces the aisles, clearing each of them with his hand gun. When he deems the building safe, as expected, he tucks the gun into his holster and returns to the window and waves the rest of his group in. He disappears back inside and starts to fill up an abandoned shopping cart with all the food that it can hold.

He’s just about finishing up filling up the second cart when he feels puffs of warm breath on the nape of his neck. He nearly jumps before he realizes that it’s probably just Steve.

He slides an easy smile on his face, trying to show Steve that he totally didn’t freak him out, and turns around. He’s face-to-face with a man, a real man with warm skin and blood and two whole eyes. His posture and facial expression radiates ‘maniac’ and Tony instinctively takes a step away from the guy, knocking into the shelf behind him. 

“‘Fraid you can’t be taking my food,” the man snarls at Tony. Spittle lands on Tony’s cheek. 

Before Tony manages to open his mouth to call for his team, the man is on him, throwing inaccurate punches every which way. Tony easily blocks the pathetic shots, only allowing a few of the extremely erratic movements to make contact with his head or torso. He’s still a little too shocked to move on the offensive. 

He subconsciously hears the sound of light but noticeable footsteps running closer. The gait sounds just like Steve’s.

“Tony!” a voice shouts. “Hold on!” Is it just him, or does that voice sound particularly strained?

The voice is enough to snap Tony out of his daze. He begins to throw a few quick jabs before the man pulls a dagger from the waistband of his worn-down jeans. Tony sees the blade glint before it’s digging into his thigh and dragging down toward his knee.

He cries out before the leg gives out from under him. He collapses to the ground before he pulls out his gun and points it between the man’s eyes. He fires and the warm, crimson liquid sprays his face and body.

He’s always been reluctant to use that gun for two important reasons. The first one being that the Infected seem to be attracted to the sound and the second being that ammunition is more precious than diamonds right now. He’s just wasted a bullet. 

“Tony?” Natasha’s voice calls out. He opens his eyes - wait, when did they close? - and rolls his head to the right. Steve, Natasha, and Clint are kneeling next to him, three dead bodies splayed by their feet. Steve has a deep gash on his cheek that’s bleeding a lot, Natasha is holding her ribs gingerly, and Clint’s shoulder is disfigured. When did all of that happen?

“You guys okay?” Tony asks the three with a furrowed brow. 

“We were going to ask you the same,” Clint tells him, “You passed out for a few minutes on us.”

Tony blinks his eyes a few times, trying to rid the fog from his head. He doesn’t remember passing out but it makes sense. He’s definitely missing a small chunk of time from his mind.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tony utters after a few moments. 

Clint stands from his kneeling position on the ground and picks up a roll of gauze that lays on the floor of the aisle. 

“Should we take the knife out?” Steve inquires. “Would it be safe?”

The wound is still bleeding sluggishly, but it’s only been a few minutes since it was plunged into his leg anyway. Tony thinks it’s a good sign. It’s probably pretty shallow if it’s already slowed this much.

“It should be fine, it’s practically done bleeding.”

They take the blade out agonizingly slow. Tony’s forced to bite down on a discarded water bottle to avoid yelling out. Heaven knows that they don’t want to attract any more of the Infected with his shouts. 

When the notched knife finally slips away from his leg, Natasha efficiently wipes every trace of blood on it and slips it in her waistband. Knives are one of the best weapons against the Infected and Tony counts the stabbing as a win. If the price he had to pay for the dagger was a stabbing, so be it. Totally worth it. 

Clint wraps a roll of gauze snuggly around Tony’s thigh and Steve pulls him to his feet carefully.

“Can you walk?” Natasha asks.

Tony puts some weight on his leg and finds that it holds well enough even though it trembles pathetically. They can’t risk staying in the CVS any longer, though, because Infected are surely making their way toward the group. A building is the last place that they want to be trapped in, especially with all the injuries.

“I think so,” he replies.

None of them say it out loud, but Tony’s positive that they’re all thinking it. That’s the first time they’ve actually seen another live human - let alone four - in a few very long months. It’s really a shame that they were hostile and now lay dead on the floor of the CVS. Tony’s glad that he has two assassins and a super soldier on his side, based off of the way the people’s necks are bent at an unnatural angle.

Tony doesn’t have time to grieve for the lives lost. It’s kill or be killed nowadays. He’s misses when he used to save lives instead of take them away, but he knows that he has a group to protect and he won’t let them down as long as his heart is still beating. 

“We better get going before any of the Infected come along, we’re sitting ducks in here,” Steve says.

And he’s right. If they’re still there when a group of Infected finds their way in, they’re completely screwed. 

They quickly wipe the shelves clean of any food or medicine and fit them compactly into the carts. They make their way down the cracked and tarnished street toward the outskirts of Manhattan.There, Thor, Bruce, Pepper, Rhodey, and Phil await their arrival. They had found a vacant condo on the East River where they can overlook Brooklyn to stay at. Brooklyn’s tall skyscrapers no longer light up like a beacon across the skyline.

They encounter a large horde of Infected that they just barely escape from. They only kill off a few of them because of the shape they’re in and dodge the rest. It’s a good thing that the Infected aren’t particularly fast. They rush down the street with the large group trailing not too far behind them. They make horrid sounds while they chase after their food which causes the Avengers to travel in silence. There’s nothing important that they really need to discuss anyway. 

Eventually, the Infected collapse on the ground one by one. There are only about ten of them left by the time they reach the condo. They’re easily taken down before the Avengers enter the condo with their carts in front of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
